


sifting through the sand, metal, and blood

by kathleenfergie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Character Study, Gen, I think?, Mild Gore, Post-Canon, of life after tfa, this is just following rey in snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 08:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8659588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathleenfergie/pseuds/kathleenfergie
Summary: Rey knew Han Solo for a mere number of hours and still every part of her body screamed when Kylo Ren’s saber ran through him, cross guard hissing against Han’s ribcage. Rey is reminded of that first day in the sand, wailing as her parents’ spacecraft drifted away.
  “you dangle on the leash / of your own longing; / your need grows teeth.” - Speeches for Dr Frankenstein by Margaret Atwood





	

**Author's Note:**

> i love rey i have a poster of her on my wall and every time i think of her i smile. i love her so much. i wanted to try my hand in writing a fic of her life after swtfa. it's just her building relationships with luke and leia and just sort of thinking. she thinks a lot. also battling the forces of good and evil and all that fun shit. 
> 
> this took me a long time to write bc of writer's block and also star wars research. i'm not the most knowledgeable on like sw terms and species/everything so i'm only using what i've gained from other fics and googling. a lot of my own headcanons for rey have been fostered by other fics that do great things (like the saberstaff, that's gotta be a thing that happens). i would like to not only thank my gods but wookieepedia and all that it has done for me lol
> 
> also i'd just like to say that i am so shit at writing fight scenes so like cut me some slack bc i tried really hard. wtf is a parry tho. 
> 
> enjoy. give me feedback bc i want to write more rey. i could write about rey for the rest of my life.

Rey knew Han Solo for a mere number of hours and still every part of her body screamed when Kylo Ren’s saber ran through him, cross guard hissing against Han’s ribcage. As Finn drags her back into the snow and chaos, Chewie’s guttural cries ring loud over the explosions. Rey is reminded of that first day in the sand, wailing as her parents’ spacecraft drifted away.

* * *

She isn’t used to cold winds, only the stinging hot sandstorms that used to whip through Rey’s AT-AT hovel. She wonders if it’s been swallowed now that she isn’t there to scrape sand off the hull with her bare hands.

For reasons unknown to Rey, Luke finds storms the most calming and meditates through them, instructing his padawan to do the same, despite the fact that she can’t find any peace through all the noise. She’s convinced he’s just being an ass but will never say so; she comes close, some days, when Luke has her raise giant boulders into the air and keep them at a certain height, pebbles orbiting. She only grits her teeth and imagines how to make Force-pushing him off a cliff seem like an accident.

He smirks like he knows exactly what Rey is thinking. He probably does, she muses.

Weeks are spent learning the different saber forms, Master Luke testing his padawan in all of them to find where she falls comfortable. Some have Rey spinning and flying from green hills, others blocking Luke’s strong attack with a flat palm doling out Force pushes.

He tells her about the Sith’s form so that she can prepare herself against Kylo Ren, but never lets her practice any of the movement. Luke knows that the Dark is too tempting, that Rey has felt wisps of it at her fingertips. She’s shared that fight in the woods with Ren and afterwards, a frown sets on Luke’s face.

It’s unsettling until it is gone and Rey feels able to breathe again. He teaches her and accepts her, but she thinks that he won’t ever be happy after everything that has happened in his life. 

After seven months, something starts tugging at Rey’s chest. She assumes it’s the Force, as it’s done quite a number of things to Rey since Kylo Ren pulled it out of her head, her lonely ocean in his palm. It stings and she can’t put a finger on it. 

In her off time, when Rey is free to tinker with all of Luke’s junk tech, she concentrates hard on the feeling. Like being suffocated, it settles on her throat and drains her. It isn’t a fully painful sensation, but there are days when Rey can’t swallow because of it and her breaths come in short bursts.

She teaches herself how to swim and at first, it is possible one of the most terrifying things in the galaxy.

Rey starts with her toes dancing on the tides, knees pulled against her when the cold laps at her feet. The water is sharp and biting like the rest of Ach-To. When it isn’t bone chillingly cold at night, it’s far too humid, and Rey welcomes the ocean as it pulls her ankles in with the sand.

Some mornings, Luke will stroll by with a cup of caf and find a place on the shore to meditate while Rey walks out into the small waves. She frowns at his quiet chuckles, water crashing against her while Rey attempts to keep from squealing nervously.

Eventually, she goes deeper into the blue and lets it swarm around her chest. In the gray overcast morning, she lets herself float, mind reaching out with the Force. Rey can feel every creature, every plant, and piece of random debris.

The experience is both overwhelming and beautiful as Rey treads, fighting to keep her head above water. There are tears pooling down her face when the strange feeling in her chest simmers.

* * *

It’s well into the night cycle but neither Rey nor her master have found sleep.

The outside is eerily silent, the usual chatter of the island’s creatures absent. Master Luke sense the change in atmosphere and the fire glints off his frowning, weathered face. He’s attempting to meditate and Rey is amazed that he cannot find solace in his mind; meditation is Luke’s coping mechanism and response to  _ literally _ every problem the scavenger has.

Watching him, she can see the many thoughts that run across his face. 

"I want to go home," Rey says in a small voice from her sleep pad, staring into the hearth. Luke's eyes fly open and one eyebrow lifts. "For a little while."

Sometimes Luke asks questions he already knows the answer to; it is both comforting and infuriating. "Jakku?"

Part of Rey aches when she thinks of Jakku, of her battered AT-AT and the scrap yards.  Mostly, though, mostly she just wants to see Leia.

Finn and Poe, too, but the General has been in Rey’s thoughts since that heart wrenching embrace back on D'Qar.

Luke had explained Leia’s Force sensitivity - there was no way the two of them shared a womb and only one was strong in the Force - and in dreams Rey wishes she could reach out to her. She’s a little girl again, sifting through the sand, metal, and blood for Leia.

"No," Rey chuckles wistfully, a sad smile on her face. "The Resistance base. I miss the droids."

Luke hums in response, knowing the underlying reasons, but says nothing.

* * *

Rey glances around the room, cup of tea warming her hands while Leia putters about, straightening a stack of holopads and styluses before reaching into her closet to grab a blanket. She unfolds it and comes to place it over the smaller woman, sighing.

"Tell Finn he isn't allowed to take you out to watch the X-Wings until your cold is gone. Or the snow passes, whichever comes first." Rey nods, blushing slightly and sipping from her cup.

"This is only the second time that I've seen snow," Rey confesses quietly, giving the General a small smile. The Resistance moved from D’Qar after the First Order tracked them down and though she can never remember the planet’s damn name, the weather is something to be desired. "I can't tell if I dislike it more than sand."

"If I've learned anything in my life, it's that snow melts and sand sticks with you for the rest of your days. I'm sure Luke still has remnants of Tattooine in his clothing." Leia smirks at her quip, glancing sideways at Rey. The girl laughs weakly, the sound caught in her throat.

"Poe complains whenever Finn wears his clothing, says that Jakku sand comes off onto his floor every time." Rey thought for a moment on whether or not the topic was an inappropriate one to discuss with the General, but Leia hums in amusement and leans back into the couch.

"The best pilot in the Resistance and a former stormtrooper," Leia muses. "That's one for the storybooks."

"I guess it is," Rey agrees. She takes another gulp before turning to set the tea aside. She assumes she's setting it on a coaster, but instead a small device boots up and projects a hologram of a woman with unruly curls and a beautiful dress. 

_ "Anakin!" _ The shimmering blue figure admonishes someone out of sight, hands going to her cheeks before she swats one palm at the other person. The image cuts and begins again. It plays a couple more times before Rey reaches over and presses a button. The woman disappears and Rey feels a tension in the air, like she's seen something she wasn't supposed to.

"My mother," Leia cuts through the silence. "It's a recording my father took when they were young."

"She's beautiful," the scavenger whispers, wanting to watch it again.

"Yes," Leia agrees sadly. Rey looks back at the general and sees a soft grin on her face, despite the sorrow in her eyes. "I never knew her, just  _ of  _ her. I assume you know the story; Luke's mentioned that you've learned some of our history."

"No, actually. Just the glorified parts. Heroes of the universe and the whole Darth Vader being your father thing. Most people here don't like to talk about their General behind her back." Leia smirks again and settles further into the couch, reaching for her own cup of tea.

“My mother was Padmé Amidala Naberrie, Queen of Naboo and later the leader of the Galactic Senate. My father was a child slave when she met him, but after many years and all the movements of the galaxy,” Leia rolled her eyes as she told the story, “they fell in love. I’m sure you know that Jedi weren’t allowed to marry, but they did, secretly.

“She was pregnant when Anakin began his descent into the Dark Side.” Leia paused, sipping some of her tea. “Luke and I were born the night she died. Him first, always Luke first,” the words hold some bitterness but the General’s face was still soft. Rey reached out with the Force and found no malice in Leia. “Women die in childbirth all the time, but that wasn’t the case for her.

“Anakin was Darth Vader before they put him in that suit and he Force-choked my mother; the doctors think he fractured her windpipe. She died gasping out our names. I don't think she even think held us, just named us and died. Luke and I grew up apart, none the wiser. 

"Does that sound like any of the other stories?" She adds after some silence. Rey sips her tea and frowns into the cup, swallowing the tale.

"No, but I think I know you better now.” Rey smiled warmly at the General, who reached a hand out and set it down on the Jedi’s knee. “I rarely met any nice women on Jakku, just humans and creatures that got their fingers cracked if they came near me." Rey laughed sardonically at a couple of memories. "I think I have my mother's mouth; Unkar Plutt commented on it a lot. Us women and our dirty mouths."

“Ah, yes,” Leia chuckled. “There have been many things said about how like my mother I am. A lot good, but many nasty comments on female leaders.” Leia waves her hand in the air and blows a raspberry. “No matter. The galaxy knows not to cross me.”

Rey believes her, laughing.

* * *

It's fitting that it all ends the way it began: in snow. 

Rey has decided that she  _ does  _ hate snow more than sand, searching the flat ice of the planet for a familiar flash of red. She can feel Ren's Force signature clear as day but the masked creature was nowhere in sight.

Above her, X-Wings and TIE Fighters weave around each other in colourful arcs, sharp winds pulling at Rey as they whizz by. She says a silent prayer for Poe before turning toward the icy hills that blanket the First Order’s base. She wondered if stormtrooper uniforms were designed specifically for such cold planets, considering how they frequented the ice and snow. She’d ask Finn about it later.

Rey feels the pull of Ren’s Force signature and as she swings her head from side to side, her fingertips tingle. Her eyes land on the patch of trees that begin the great forest he is no doubt staging their battle in. She huffs at his theatrics. 

Kylo Ren stands on an outcropping with his saber at his side, looking down at Rey.

“Scavenger,” he greets her, the mask’s voice fizzling in and out with the title. He knows that she won’t face him masked and so he takes two hands and pops the switch, lifting it off and letting it fall to the ground with a hard  _ clunk. _ “We end this  _ today." _

“You should really write holodramas, Ren,” she quips, taking her saberstaff from its place on her back and igniting it. He rolls his eyes and jumps from his place above her, crossguard firing up and projecting the sickly red she has come to hate. 

The fight is lackluster and Rey feels herself slip into the Force, letting it guide her as she reads his advances, wild blade swinging at her as she blocks it with her own. He fights the same way every time and in some twisted way, the Jedi almost wishes there could be some excitement to this battle. Maybe then she could feel adrenaline in her veins instead of dread. 

Despite Kylo Ren’s love of melodrama, his words have weight. 

The Resistance’s resources were drained considerably in the last year and tonight was their last attempt at winning the war. Rey had spent endless hours in the war room watching the planning and gathering of all that they had, the lines of General Organa’s face deepening with every new First Order attack. 

Ren’s free hand thrusts forward and Rey is Force-pushed several feet, her back colliding violently with a rock wall. She hisses and bares her teeth at him, hands coming to the middle of her saberstaff. Rey clicks the release mechanism with two thumbs and pulls apart the now separated blades. 

She runs forward and pushes off a tree trunk with one foot, sabers extended as she twirls down to him, one yellow blade catching him in the shoulder. The Knight cries out and then screams, face red with blistering anger. He fights more harshly then, the wound strengthening him. It was always something that annoyed Rey; she could hurt him as much as she wanted and yet he took strength from the pain and the Dark.

Ren swings and Rey parries, straining against the weight of him as he pushes against her right saber, the ground sinking from her feet digging into it. Stand stills were a common theme among the two, both fighting for the upper hand with grinding teeth and hate seething between their minds.

The suffocation she used to feel on Ach-To returns when he is near and every battle between them is fought through gasps. She assumes it’s the Force bond Luke continually attempts to convince her of, but Rey’s blood boils at the idea of being tied to such a creature. 

“Give up, Jedi!” He yells as he pulls one foot up and kicks her square in the chest. She lands in the snow, gasping. “The galaxy will bow to me. _You_ will bow to me, scavenger.” 

She realizes as he says this that Snoke must be dead, Ren must have killed him before coming to kill her. He’s always been adamant about being her master, but never a god or sovereign. From her position in the snow, she realizes that the boy he once was will never be brought back; not by Luke, Leia, or the man himself. 

Rey tries to pull herself from the ground, sabers limp in her hands, but Ren keeps her down with one gloved palm out. 

“Ben Solo is dead,” he says, reading her thoughts. His eyes are wide, nostrils flaring as blood seeps from his shoulder.

“I never knew Ben Solo,” Rey chokes out. “Only this monster he created.”

Any bravado Ren was keeping up crumbles and he roars, arm swinging wide as he brings his saber down toward her. It would have been a killing blow, but as he leaned back, Rey ignited one blade, pale yellow gleaming against red. 

Ren’s saber crashes against hers and despite using all of her strength and the help of the Force, she can’t push back. Her saber is flung from her hand and as Ren hacks off her left arm, his too-tall body concaves toward her position on the ground. Rey screams in agony as her right saber ignites, her last chance.

Yellow light cuts through Kylo Ren’s chest, her saber sinking through his already wounded shoulder and sliding through collarbone and ribs. He makes little sound as he dies, his expression confused and pained. He looks her in the eyes one last time before they go blank and his body falls on top of hers with a heavy thud.

Rey screams out in pain, the wound of her lost arm spilling red onto the snow.

She can feel the hot, sticky blood from Kylo Ren’s body seeping into her clothing and attempts to push him off, vomiting from pain and shock. The world goes blurry as she finally heaves his torso off of hers, the ability to breathe returning with more vigor than in the last two years. 

The wounded Jedi does nothing after that, only lies on the cold ground with her legs tangled with a dead man's, and lets the sounds of airstrikes and blasters fill her mind. In her own duel, she couldn’t hear anything through the thick trees, but now that her own small world is silent, everything filters in. Her consciousness is fading fast, but as she reaches out with the Force, she can still feel Finn, Poe, Luke, and the General.

Letting that affirmation calm her, Rey slips into her mind.

The bleak seas of Ach-To mix with Takodana’s endless green, Jakku sand whipping around her. D’Qar’s ring casts a shadow over her and in the darkness, the humidity causes hot stand to stick to her sweaty skin. Rey lies down in the dirt and lets the sand create dunes with her body, itchy and familiar. She never dreams of that ocean anymore.

Minutes, hours, years; she doesn’t know how long it is until there is a rustling sound from the trees. Cracking her eyes open, she sees the calm blue of her Master’s. He gingerly lifts her into his arms and Rey could laugh at how weak she used to think the old man.

Luke says her name several times but she doesn’t respond, only groans in pain. She desperately wants to move her left arm but knows it isn’t there anymore. 

The world fades again and the last thing Rey remembers is Luke’s grief-stricken blue eyes, the colour of his father’s saber, as they leak hot tears.

* * *

Rey flexes her cybernetic hand as the other holds a cup full of... _ something  _ alcoholic, Poe’s sixth party of the last fortnight booming around her. She’s arguably had too much to drink in a little under an hour, but it dulls the sting of pain and grief. Her shoulder still aches, even after a day spent in the bacta tank and the doctors’ utmost care at fitting her prosthetic.

“Are robotic body parts a requirement of the Jedi order or is it just some trend that’s been picked up?” A voice questions as its body plops down beside her. Rey recognizes Jessika Pava, from Blue Squadron; it was odd seeing her in anything but a flight suit.

“Not that I’ve been told,” Rey responds shyly, offering the woman a small smile before sipping her drink. “Do you think Poe will stop throwing these parties before or after he depletes the Resistance’s alcohol stores?”

“After, definitely after,” Jess laughs. “A tip: don’t ever challenge him to a drinking match if it’s Corellian whiskey. He can drink that shit like water and I think he actually quite enjoys liquefying his liver when it comes to that shit." 

“Noted,” Rey says, downing the rest of the clear liquor at the bottom of her cup before setting it aside. 

She searched the crowd for her friends and found Poe on Finn’s shoulders, the former stormtrooper carting his drunk boyfriend around as Poe danced along to whatever hellish music that was playing. Rey had never been introduced to the galaxy’s popular music before Poe and some days, she wishes she hadn’t been.

Jessika leaves her side after the bout of silence lengthens considerably, diving forward into Finn’s knees and tackling both men to the ground with a loud thud and many laughs. The rest of the pilots and Resistance fighters laugh and shout at the antics but eventually go back to their own circles, Rey watching them all.

By some act of magic, Rey’s sure, a new cup finds her hand and as the hours pass, it’s emptied and filled again too many times. The lights and bodies meld into a blurry mass, but she spots a familiar female coming toward her.

“You want to go for a walk?” The brunette asks, hand outstretched. Rey looks around the room briefly but allows Jessika to lift her off the couch. She sways as the world tilts slightly, the alcohol sloshing around in her stomach. Rey leans on Jess as the pilot leads her out of the room and past other party goers milling about. “Kriff, you’re tiny.”

“Fifteen years of quarter-portions do that to you,” she slurs out a little ungracefully, finding Jessika’s amused eyes. She’s clearly also drunk, but Rey is new to liquor and doesn’t handle it quite so well as the others.

They stop at an alcove down the hall, a bench tucked into the wall. Rey folds herself into a sitting position, legs tucked under her and Jess lounges, one foot on the ground while the other is bent and resting on the bench. She leans one arm against it and settles her chin on her palm, staring at Rey.

It’s not uncomfortable, her gaze, but Rey isn’t usually looked at like that or at all, really. 

Jessika takes her cybernetic hand in her human one and studies the planes of the metal and wire, lifting it up to the light. Rey watches her do so and frowns.

“Sorry, does it hurt?” The drunk pilot asks after a second, realizing her actions.

“No, it’s not that,” Rey responds quietly, still frowning. Jessika hums, still holding onto her hand. A headache that formed about an hour ago starts to hurt more sharply and Rey furrows her brow from the sting.

Jess takes her free hand from under her chin and presses a soft finger against the crease on Rey’s forehead, smoothing out the skin as the Jedi stares at her dumbly. She trails her finger down Rey’s nose, mouth, and stops at her jaw, curling her hand to fit it.

“Can I kiss you?” She asks and Rey nods, a little speechless. 

She’s kissed a couple of people before, but she was a young teenage girl who had only ever seen kissing from the cantina goers on Jakku; it left something to be desired. She wasn’t used to kindness and hands that didn’t hurt. 

Jess’ round face was soft and the feel of her hand against her jaw soothed Rey slightly. She felt bad as her chapped lips dragged against the other woman’s smooth mouth as the pilot’s hand snaked around her head and pulled Rey closer.

Rey felt herself growing dizzy as the kiss went on and her skin became too hot, the proximity of Jessika’s body closing in on Rey. She felt her throat throb as bile rose and pushing away from Jess, Rey turned and vomited into her own hands.

“ _Kriff_ , Rey, are you alright?” She yelped, fingers combing the girl's hair away from her face. Rey nodded and looked back up at the pilot, mortified.

“You know my name?” Rey asked in genuine surprise.

“What? Of course I know your name,” Jess told her, untangling herself from Rey to stand. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Rey let herself be half dragged back to her quarters, all the way wiping her face with one sleeve and hoping she didn’t have sick all over her body. It was the best kiss she’d ever had but her cheeks burned from embarrassment. They reached her rooms after a short walk and Rey entered the code, her fingers stumbling several times as Jessika laughed.

“You’ll probably have to go to medical to get your hand cleaned properly, but that can wait until morning,” she told Rey as she helped clean her face with a wet cloth. Thankfully, she’d only soiled her hands and not her entire body, so Jess finished wiping up her face and hair quickly. “I’ll tell the boys that you got in safe.”

“Thank you,” Rey said quietly, the ‘fresher far too small for two drunk people to stand in comfortably.

The other woman left after helping Rey into bed and the scavenger put her face in her hands, crying softly into the dark of her bedroom. At this point, normality in Rey’s life seemed very far away. She could barely stand the densely packed parties and apparently kissing seemed too much for her as well. It was all very tiring.

She didn’t want to sleep, her last battle with Ren a constant nightmare, so she stared into the darkness until her eyes went sore.

Around three in the morning, her door _whooshed_ open, Poe and Finn stumbling in. Light filtered from behind them and their familiar silhouettes were a welcome sight. As Poe flipped a light switch, Finn shed his jacket and boots before completely collapsing next to Rey, face in a pillow. Poe scoffed and nudged Finn with one foot. An impolite word sounded from the pillows and Rey laughed quietly.  

The pilot took his time tearing off layers of sweaty clothing, arranging his and Finn’s boots by the door before hanging The Jacket, as they were calling it, on a chair. He switched off the dim light and crawled into the bed on the other side of Rey, his hands going around her small middle.

“Jess say’s you’re a lousy kisser, by the way,” he mumbles into her hair and Rey sighs as Poe chuckles.

“Don’t you two have your  _ own _ bed?” Rey shoots back.

“Yours is bigger,” Finn tells her from his position on top of the blankets and Rey swats at him, her movements groggy from alcohol and fatigue.

“Come on, darling, you don’t mean that. I’m the best big spoon the Resistance has.”

“Oh, shut up,” she yawned, snuggling deeper into Poe’s arms. It’s odd, having closeness with people.

She doesn’t miss the isolation of her AT-AT but their friendship and its intimacy unnerved Rey some days. She went from a world where touch meant pain, but with Finn and Poe, it was familiar and loving. Being loved was strange, Rey decided, but not unwelcome.

* * *

“My sister wants to know when you’re going to stop avoiding her,” Master Luke’s voice rings out across the empty hangar. Rey sat near the blast doors, mug in hand as she watched snow fall and settle on the dark tarmac.

She doesn’t deny that she’s been keeping herself away from Leia. It simply hurts too much, to be near her and know that she killed Leia’s only child. Rey sips from her mug and sighs, smiling weakly at Luke. 

“I don’t know how to face her, to face  _ this,” _ she motions with one hand, waving it around in a way that Luke understands. He settles on the crate next to her and follows snowflakes with blue eyes. “I’m still trying to figure out how to use my damn arm.”

“It gets easier, I promise,” he says softly and lays his own cybernetic hand on hers, the old metal clashing against her shiny new arm. They lapse into a comfortable silence, watching the world outside.

“Was it easier to forget it was him behind the mask?” She asks suddenly, uncertain.

“Are you talking about Ben or my father?” Luke answers her with another question, a habit she found ridiculously annoying.

“Both.”

“No, for both,” Luke says after a moment. “Learning that Darth Vader was my father fueled my fight to bring him to the Light. I wanted so badly to see his true face, the face of my family, but I never saw it until he was dying in my arms. 

“Ben, though, Ben was harder.” Luke sighs and frowns, sifting through memories. “I know you never knew Ben Solo, but he was a beautiful child. It doesn’t excuse anything he’s done, but with that mask on, all I saw beneath it was my nephew. Tall, gangly, big-eared Ben. He got his curls from both families, but his colouring is all Solo. I remember Han used to tell Leia that he’d found his mother’s doppelgӓnger.”

“You haven’t seen his face since the Academy,” Rey fills in the gaps.

“In your memories, I have, but it was distorted by the way you viewed him. The final battle was the first time I’d ever known him as a man. He was not Ben and I think that is what is most painful.” Luke closes his eyes for a moment and Rey reaches out with the Force, attempting to comfort her Master. “Thank you, Rey,” he says quietly, eyes remaining closed.

He slips into a meditation pose and Rey does the same. There are days when she misses this, but the war is over and she doesn’t want to be anything but Rey from Jakku. At least, for a little while. They sit for an hour in silence, both in their minds as the sun rises.

Eventually, Luke has somewhere to be.

“If you wish to finish your training, Rey,” Luke begins as he stands, “I will be here.”

“If I don’t?” She asks quietly. He smiles that knowing smile of his and pats her shoulder.

“I will still be here.”

Rey shows up at Leia’s door soon after her talk with Luke, weeping into her palms as the General wraps herself around the girl.

“Oh, my darling, it’s alright,” Leia whispers, kissing her brow. Rey is taller but in Leia’s embrace, she feels like that five year old in the sand. 

_ fin. _

**Author's Note:**

> alternate title for this - "the leash of your own longing"
> 
>  
> 
> thanks for reading :)))


End file.
